Jackpot

     "If I were to win the jackpot," she muses aloud, even though you hadn't asked, "I would buy my family a nice home in Neopia Central, with enough bedrooms for everyone. And then I'd buy myself a morphing potion. I am so very tired of being a Wocky."

     Your own tail flicks sharply with irritation. "What's wrong with being a Wocky?"

     "Oh." The girl's eyes widened, only just realizing that you, too, are a Wocky. "Nothing, that is - if you like being a Wocky. But you have to agree, it's so hard to keep a shine on our fur. And you must also admit it would be nice to fly."

     You scoff, returning to organizing your wares. You've seen her like before - heck, you've *been* there yourself, when you were just a young Wocky kit. Greener pastures and all that, according to that old Kau saying. "You don't think Draiks and Scorchios have their own fair share of problems?"

     The girl simply hums, clearly not taking the retort particularly seriously. You're not surprised. Her head's too far up into the clouds to listen to reason, to the point that you think she should just invest in a Cloud Paint Brush and call it a day. "Sure," she says easily, "I'm Mina, by the way," she introduces. She pauses, and then - "What's the jackpot right now?"

     You grin, and you know it's your merchant's smile. You've been told before that this particular smile is a little feral around the edges, though you've never been able to tell the difference personally. "You want to buy a scratchcard to find out? It's only 600 neopoints, and it's a lucky dip!"

     Mina tilts her head, considering. Whatever other people have said about your merchant's smile, it doesn't phase her. "Is it enough to buy a Neohome and a morphing potion? And maybe a few nice collector's Usukis, for my brother." She leans in a little as if she's about to share some big secret, but she doesn't lower the volume of her voice at all. "He's a little embarrassed about his hobby, you know, collecting Usukis. So he doesn't like to buy them for himself, but maybe if I win the jackpot, I could buy some for him."

     "How very kind of you," you say dryly. You don't really care how Neopians spend their scratchcard earnings - unless they're spending their prize money on more scratchcards. Those customers are your favourite. "I'll tell you it's a sizable sum, I can promise that."

     "Would I be able to buy codestones for my sister, too?" Mina asks. "It's been a while since she's had a class at the Mystery Island Training School. I think she'd like to go back, but Eo Codestones are so very expensive, you know."

     Expensive? Back in your day, Eo Codestones weren't worth half a Race to Riches Scratchcard. "How much are Eo Codestones?" you ask despite yourself.

     "Hmm?" Mina tilts her head, thinking. "About eighteen thousand neopoints, I think."

     Eighteen thousand. Inflation sure did a number on that item - and you're still standing here, selling your scratchcards at six hundred a pop. It had been a while since the Merchants of Neopia last conferred together, but wasn't the Tombola Man supposed to be giving out free codestones to keep the prices low?

     That darned Nimmo at the Mystery Island Training School, you think bitterly. He must be buying off the Tombola Man, convincing him to hand out less codestones to drive his school's tuition up. You're not angry about the scheme - you're angry that you weren't the one to think of it first.

     Maybe you should just raise your own prices. Surely no one would holler if tomorrow, scratchcards were priced fifty neopoints higher. And if customers were to complain, you could soothe them with promises of a bigger jackpot.

     "What would you do with the jackpot if you won it?" Mina asked.

     "Honey," you say patronizingly, "I am the Scratchcard Kiosk Wocky. I already own the jackpot."

     Mina hops onto the empty stool in front of your kiosk, the one that customers sit on when scratching off their cards. Her tail folds neatly around her legs. "No you don't," she says smartly. "Your business owns the jackpot."

     "And I own my business," you point out.

     The young Wocky thinks about it for a moment, considering. "So what's stopping you from keeping the jackpot for yourself?"

     That gives you pause. Most people who come to your corner of the world are too self-involved to ever ask about you. Each regular has their own reason for frequenting your shop, but their reasons are never for your company.

     Not that it should be. In this business, it's better to maintain a professional distance from one's customers.

     "I can't," you say. "Until each scratchcard I've ever sold has been redeemed, there must be a jackpot to win. And there's only a jackpot if I sell more scratchcards."

     You frown. Now that you've said it aloud, your business - your life - seems... sad.

     Is this all that you're destined for? Stuck in this endless cycle of selling scratchcards at six hundred apiece, where the most dramatic question you ask yourself is whether or not to hike prices to six hundred fifty per dip?

     "So you don't keep the pot out of honour," Mina surmises. She frowns when you laugh. "What's so funny?"

     "It's nothing," you say. It's just that no one's ever accused you of having too much honour before. Usually, people holler at you when their scratchcards come up empty, calling you a cheat and demanding a refund. Despite your initial misgivings, you're beginning to find Mina a refreshing change of pace.

     "If you say so," she says doubtfully. The end of her tail curls up a bit - an indication that she's displeased that she couldn't share in the laughter. Not that it matters. You doubt Mina would find it funny, even if you did explain. She's too young to understand. "So what would you do with the jackpot, if you won it?"

     What would you do?

     It's not a question you've let yourself ask. A merchant can't dabble in their own wares. It's more than a rule, it's a fundamental law if one wants to see any sort of success. You've seen too many others forced to close up shop after their ledgers summed up negative month after month.

     But then again - would that be the worst thing, to close up shop? You've been running this shop for decades, keeping it open every day of the year, closing only for breakfast and lunch. You have a tidy sum in the bank. If you wanted, you could use the money to invest in another shop - or do something else entirely.

     But what? What would you do?

     "I... don't know," you realize.

     Selling scratchcards has been your life these many years - and you've taken pride in it. You even served as a mentor to Sidney during his first year getting his kiosk off the ground, out in the Deserted Fairground. You're pretty much a household name at this point. If you decided to try your hand at a new kind of shop, it's doubtful that you'll see the same level of success. You're smart enough to know that it takes luck in addition to hard work and a good business plan to reach this kind of branding, and lightning rarely strikes twice.

     "Don't know?" Mina says, surprised. "I know a thousand things I'd like to do if I were to win the jackpot. You don't know a single thing that would make you happier?"

     You study the young Wocky for a moment, reflecting upon this young Wocky of a million questions and a generous soul, hoping to win a jackpot to benefit her family and her friends - and, for some confounded reason, was still unhappy. Unhappy enough to visit you, hoping to fix her problems with the weight in your wallet.

     "Look, kid, I got something to say," you say finally. "And don't go spreading this around, 'cause it's bad for business, okay? But the jackpot's not going to give you happiness. That, you've got to find in yourself instead."

     You've seen it all before. Many of those who do win the jackpot come back just a few months later, greedy for more. If a multi-million neopoint jackpot was enough to buy happiness, wouldn't winning once be enough?

     And maybe that's the answer to the question Mina posed earlier, the one that stumped you - what would you do if you won a jackpot?

     It doesn't matter, because you don't want it.

     The new question is: what do you want, then, if not a jackpot? You're unsure.

     But you think that maybe, you could be someone more than just a merchant at the scratchcard kiosk.

     "Wait." You set aside your boxes of scratchcards and extract a smaller box, one that fits in your lap. "Here."

     She takes the bottle you offer her, eyes wide. "This is - "

     "An Eyrie Morphing Potion," you say. "Snagged it off the Snowager some months back." You've never liked the Snowager, spending all day sleeping on a hoard of treasure that it didn't deserve, in your professional opinion - meanwhile, you're running your shop 22 hours a day, seven days a week. After watching many Neopets get blasted by the Snowager's ice over the years, you've gotten very good at knowing when, exactly, is the right time to thieve.

     "But I thought you said I have to find happiness in myself," Mina says, confused. "Not in codestones and Usuki dolls and morphing potions." Still, she clutches the bottle close to her chest.

     You shrug. "Those types of lessons, you have to experience for yourself to learn. Doesn't work, just listening to an old Wocky like me." And you have a bit of experiencing yourself to do, it seems. How much of life has passed you by while you've been manning your shop?

     It would be nice to take a vacation at least, you think. Maybe you'll visit Mystery Island, catch up with the Tombola Man.

     Get him to spill on why codestone prices are so high.

     Mina giggles. "Well, thank you," she said, remembering her manners. "For what it's worth, I think being a Wocky might not be so bad. It's done you well, after all." She hesitates before smiling brightly, uncorking the bottle. "Though I'd still like to fly." And in one gulp, she tosses back the potion - and her tail begins to thin, her ears flatten against her skull, and wings sprout from her back - until it's not a Wocky at all looking back at you, but a bright-eyed Eyrie that's chirping with pleasure.

     She lingers on the stool, testing her wings - unfurling them then refurling them, then giving them a tentative flap. It reminds you of when you were young, buying up paint brushes left and right, modelling in front of the mirror and deciding whether this new colour would be the one you'd been searching for.

     "Well, what are you waiting for?" you ask. "Fly!"

     Mina looks to you and smiles, and you think you might understand what others said about your merchant's smile being different from the rest. Because this smile, too, is different. It's radiant and spans to eternity, all curves and no edges.

     Then she turns and, after a few powerful wing flaps, she leaps off the stool and soars into the air, drawing circles in the clouds. And you watch, thinking - yeah, maybe the sky is where she belongs. Maybe wings are all that she needed.

     Now, it's your turn to figure out what you need.

     The End.